Blurry clay tiles came into focus as Vatis winced on blistered feet. Tall, steeply pitched roofs poked over the top of a wooden wall that could barely be considered a fence. Beyond the wall at the center of the city, a black spire towered above the other buildings, shimmering beneath a crescent moon. Chimney smoke created dark clouds that hung ominously below the tower's peak. The Church of Eternal Darkness, Vatis thought, absently humming as a distraction. He had forgotten how popular the religion was in Yimser.
A putrid, sulfuric scent drifted on the cool evening breeze. "What is that smell?" Vatis scrunched his nose.
Vidmar laughed. "That's Yimser. There's a tar pit northwest of the city. They say you get used to it."
"It's not that bad," Kamet said.
"That's because you've been smelling yourself for 30 years. Nothing smells bad compared to that," Vidmar said.
I should have known about the tar pit, Vatis thought, ignoring the banter between his companions. He couldn't concentrate. His mind drifted like the foul-smelling wind, elevating everything unpleasant: the Kokor Forest, the shadow creature, his aching feet, and his always-present self-doubt. We're too early.
They walked along a road that transitioned from dirt to gravel to unmaintained cobblestones. Weeds grew through the cracks, breaking the once-perfect symmetry. Tall, wooden lamp posts lined the remainder of the road. The flame in the lanterns somehow burnt with a faint green light. Vatis paused to examine the lantern to his left; however, movement beyond the post distracted him. He looked closer. Two hooded corpses swung rigidly from a lone oak tree as crows pecked at their decaying skin. A sign hung around one of their necks. Vatis squinted but couldn't read it in the dim light.
"Vatis," Vidmar called.
Vatis spun backward. "I'm coming," he said, rubbing his eyes. They were close now. The smell from the tar pit intensified. Yimser was a new town. Vatis needed to get in character, but he quit acting a while ago. Vidmar would notice a change in his demeanor. Still, I need to be Vatis-of-the-Road, he thought, trilling his lips and gently slapping his cheek, seeking the familiar comfort of his favorite character.
"What are you doing?" Kamet asked.
Shit. "I'm exhausted. I'm trying to make it to an inn without collapsing," Vatis lied, bouncing on his toes and shaking his head. Kamet furrowed his eyebrows and whispered something to Vidmar.
What are you saying? Vatis watched Vidmar and Kamet laugh as they walked. It was a joke at my expense, I'm sure. Fine, keep it to yourselves. They walked a few more paces before approaching a red-painted shack with a tiled roof. One of the tiles near the edge looked like it was about to fall off, but it hung on with a desperation that Vatis admired.
"What in the everlasting darkness do you want?" a guard said, stepping out of the roadside shack.
"Hello, we'd like to enter the city," Vidmar answered in an unusually cheery tone. Kamet nodded, and Vatis decided an enthusiastic wave was the best greeting he could muster.
"What's with him?" the guard said, pointing at Vatis. Vatis pulled his arm down with his opposite hand and stopped waving.
Vidmar smiled. "It's been a long journey. We could all use some rest."
Kamet nodded again. This time, Vatis followed the mercenary's lead.
"What brings you to Yimser?" the guard asked, returning his gaze to Vidmar. "And darkness, what happened to you?"
"My friend wants to participate in the tourney," Vidmar explained.
The guard laughed. "He looks like a bard, but Feya always wins the tourney."
YOU ARE READING
Tales & Treasure
FantasyA disgraced bard emerges from years of isolation, vowing to find the story that will restore his name and bring him the recognition that he desperately craves.
